A Web of Deceit
by KaterineKasdorf
Summary: She moaned softly. He could see the blood on her cheeks and hands. Her eyes rolled toward the back of her head. "Wait mom, I'm coming" Then he heard footsteps. A cloaked figure stepped into the hut. He heard a low hum, then the figure disappeared.
1. Memories

Chapter One  
  
She moaned softly. He could see the blood on her cheeks and hands. Her eyes rolled toward the back of her head. "Wait mom, I'm coming" Then he heard footsteps. A cloaked figure stepped into the hut. He heard a low hum, then the figure disappeared into the darkness. His mother slumped to the ground. She was dead. "Noooo!!!!"  
  
He started awake. His breath came in short gasps. Slowly reality flooded over him. His mother was already dead. She'd died in his arms a few months ago. He stepped from his bed and headed to his window. From where he was he could see the busy lights of Corusant. The city that never slept. The planet that was a city. This view had been his life for ten years. His other life had faded into a memory. But now it all came back. Heat, sand, light. He could hear the wind blowing the sand into his face. He could remember seeing people duck for shelter. "Sandstorms are very, very dangerous." That was his voice he heard. A lifetime ago he'd said that to someone. He'd invited them into his home. He'd introduced them to his mother. Now each of them had changed his life. And now his mother was dead. 


	2. Questions

Chapter Two  
  
In another part of Corusant, two men were talking. Their voices were deep, impressive. They had the voices of strong leaders. People would listen to voices like that. People would do whatever they were told when commanded by voices like that. The taller man was impressive. He carried his head proudly, his eyes were cold and piercing. His silver hair was cut close in a way that further accented his strong features. The other man was not as impressive as his companion. He was smaller and slightly shriveled. His features were obscured behind his dark hood, but a certain power emanated from them both. It was a horrid fetid power. It surrounded them and penetrated them. In a way it almost seemed to bind the two together.  
  
"I do not know what your plans for him are." The taller man was slightly frustrated. "Why could you not be content? You are in power."  
  
The small man looked up. Sunken into darkness his eyes had a terrifying power. "My friend, is it necessary for you to understand everything? You are wise indeed, but remember that it is I who gave you power. You must continue to trust me. The boy is unsatisfied. I have seen to that. He is full of fear, he is angry. Do not worry. He is already won. 


	3. Doubts

Chapter Three  
  
She didn't look up as her handmaiden placed a tray in front of her. She looked out at the lake. Her world had fallen apart. The past few years of hard work had been in vain. It had only seemed fitting to throw away her remaining convictions. Theirs was a galaxy in war. Was she still in danger? She didn't know. What would happen when her secret was unearthed? She didn't want to think about it. Now all she could do was wait for instructions. "You'll be safer here" they'd told her. Did she want to be safe? Of course not. She wanted to be doing something. She was used to being in control. She would be in control. But what to do.  
  
She looked back out at the lake. The sight of the island far out brought a smile to her face. Pleasant memories from her childhood surfaced. Warm days, laughter. No, no, it wasn't from her childhood. It was only the younger part of her adulthood. Had she ever been a child? Not really. Perhaps that was what she loved about him. When she looked into his eyes, she saw a little lost boy, and when she was with him, she was just a little girl. Oh how she missed him. She steeled herself against the tears that threatened her fragile composure and forced herself to eat. She was not going to sit here and wallow in her troubles. She would do it. whatever it was. she would do something. 


	4. Plans

Chapter Four  
  
Padme moved aimlessly around her bedroom in her lake retreat home. She was packing her things. At least, Pialle, her handmaiden, was packing. By the time Padme had taken out and replaced the same dress four times Pialle finally spoke up.  
  
"Here, milady, you just sit while I finish."  
  
"I'm sorry, Pialle. I know I'm getting in your way, but I'm so nervous right now."  
  
"Oh, no, milady. You're just a little distracted. I wanted you to rest. You're not in my way."  
  
"It's okay. You can admit it. I'm just not completely sure what my plans are. All I know is that I have to do something or I'll lose my mind."  
  
"Where are you going?"  
  
"Corusant."  
  
Padme heard Pialle's sharp intake of breath. "But milady, the last time you where there you were nearly killed! If the Jedi had not."  
  
"I'll be fine, Pialle. If it makes you feel any better, I'm going to find Dorme and have her stay with me. If the need arises she can be my decoy." Padme's voice faded out at the end and she looked out the window.  
  
Pialle stopped packing for a moment and looked at her mistress. She walked over to her and sat on the bed beside her. "Milady, are you still thinking bout Corde?" She tentatively put her hand on Padme's back. "She did her duty. All of us would do the same for you. She would not want you to be so upset."  
  
"I know that Pialle. In my heart I know what you are saying is true, but I can't help but think that things could be different. If only. I don't know. All I know is that I'm responsible."  
  
Pialle frowned but did not press anymore. She went thoughtfully back to her packing, allowing the silence to settle about them for a moment before asking, "And once you are at Corusant?"  
  
Padme shook off her gloom and forced a smile. "I suppose I'll find Jar- Jar, Representative Binks, and find out what has been happening in my absence. Then perhaps I can go to the Senate meetings for a while -"  
  
Pialle smiled and asked softly, "And will you try to see Master Anakin?"  
  
Just thinking about him brought a warm smile to her face. She knew they were up against a lot by marrying, but she needed him. "I don't know if that will be possible. No one must suspect that there is anything more between us than old friends, if even that."  
  
"Milady," Pialle said, coming to stand in front of Padme, "Please be safe."  
  
"I will Pialle, I promise. I'm not taking registered transport. I've found a Corellian merchant by the name of Solo who's willing to take me without letting anyone know. No one on Corusant even knows I am coming. I have to go, Pialle. I can't sit idle while people are suffering." 


	5. Concern

Chapter Five  
  
"Anakin, you look tired." Obi-Wan looked askance at his young Padawan.  
  
"I'm sorry. Master. Were you talking to me?" Anakin shook his head slightly. He knew his master had been trying to give him some lesson, but he hadn't heard anything until his master had mentioned him looking tired.  
  
"Is there something you need to tell me, Anakin?"  
  
Anakin sighed and slumped in defeat. "I still dream about her."  
  
"Padme?"  
  
"No!!" Anakin snapped, surprised at how dense his master could be at times. "I wish I could dream about Padme. I wish I could dream about anything other than this!"  
  
"Your mother?"  
  
Anakin nodded.  
  
"I thought they would go away after." His voice faded out.  
  
"After she died. After she was weak and helpless. After I could do nothing to save her. You thought that after all of this I would forget about her?"  
  
"I thought the dreams would go away," he said softly. Obi-Wan knew his Padawan was in pain, and he decided not to address the anger in Anakin's voice.  
  
Anakin's eyes watered slightly as he tightened his jaw. "So did I. But they don't, Master. They haunt me. I can see her. She's in pain. I can't get to her in time."  
  
"She's not in pain anymore, Anakin. There's nothing for you to do. You must take control. You must stop these dreams." Obi-Wan was truly sorry that the boy had such pain. "Tell me about it, Anakin. I feel as though you are holding something back from me. You never did tell me how your mother was killed."  
  
"She was killed by Tuskens. I couldn't save her." His voice was clipped and tense.  
  
"Anakin-"  
  
"That's all there is to tell. I tried to save her and I couldn't." he was truly angry now. Anakin fought against the memories that assaulted him. Once again he could see his mother lashed to a post. She was weak and hurt. He remembered the feeling of helplessness as she told him she loved him and then left him alone. The anger and hatred he had felt toward the Sand People was only secondary to the anger he had felt toward himself. As a Jedi he should have been more powerful. He should have been able to take care of her and help her. He needed more power. But where was it to come from? "I don't wish to speak of it anymore."  
  
Obi-Wan raised his eyebrows at the lordly tone his Padawan had used. "My young apprentice, You must not be angry. Master Yoda once told you that anger leads to hate and hate leads to suffering."  
  
Anakin laughed bitterly. Suffering? His whole life had been suffering. During the last few months he had experienced more pain than he thought possible for anyone to bear. Before he lashed out at Obi-Wan, he thought of his friend and counselor, Supreme Chancellor Palpatine. He had warned Anakin not to trust Obi-Wan. He had told Anakin to share his pain with no one, for people will use pain against you. "I'm sorry, Master." He said, trying to sound like the dutiful learner. "I will try to think about other things."  
  
Obi-Wan nodded gravely and continued with his lesson. 


	6. Warning

Chapter Six  
  
"I call 'er the Lady Bu. Named 'er after my wife."  
  
Padme nodded at the man. "Mr. Solo thank you for."  
  
"Awe.. No need to thank me missy. But call me Kran. All my friends do."  
  
"Alright, Kran. You may call me Padme. And I really must thank you for allowing me to ride with you to Corusant. But I hope you realize the dangers involved here. I really don't think there's anyone left who wants to kill me but I need to be sure. If I am in danger you could be too."  
  
"I understand little lady." The big, jolly man looked sad for a moment. "But I want to help. I don't like the things that are happening now." He led Padme into the cockpit of his shabby freighter. He smiled "Sorry. She's not in the best of shape. Buckle up now." They were silent as the ship shot through Naboo's atmosphere and into dark space. Kran turned back to Padme. "I lost my wife not too long ago. I don't know how it happened exactly, but she was murdered. If it hadn't been for our little Han, I might have been killed, too."  
  
"I'm sorry"  
  
"Well, now I just try to help out when I can. Things are happening in the Republic, little lady. Being a senator I suppose you know that. There are rumors. ugly rumors."  
  
"Rumors about what?"  
  
"I'm afraid you'll have to find that out for yourself. My sources-"  
  
"You're a spy?"  
  
"I wouldn't call myself a spy. Neither would anyone in the ports I visit. All they see is a big ex-farmer who likes to talk."  
  
"Is that how you collect your information? By pretending to be stupid?"  
  
"Dark times are comin, honey. We have to be prepared. The Republic must fall."  
  
"No, that won't happen! The Republic is very strong. The Chancellor will- "  
  
Kran was laughing. "Chancellor Palpatine. now there's an interesting fellow!"  
  
"He's a good man and a strong leader! The Republic needs more men like Palpatine."  
  
Kran shook his head thoughtfully. "He's strong all right. You keep your eyes open missy. Don't do anything foolish. And if you ever need help, call on Kran Solo. I'll help you as best I know how."  
  
She smiled at the kind widower. "Thank you, Kran. Things will get better. I truly hope I never have a cause to call upon your generosity again."  
  
"So do I, Miss Padme. So do I" 


	7. A Meeting

Chapter Seven  
  
Anakin stood on the shuttle platform. The shuttle was the only way to get around Corusant if you didn't own a speeder. Unless you wanted to walk around, that is. And who would do something like that? He had just finished an errand to the Senate building and was headed back to the Jedi Temple to rest. Lately he felt completely drained. He was so tired.  
  
The shuttle made slight whirring sounds as it settled upon the platform. Anakin waited for the passengers to disembark before boarding. As he waited he began to watch a young lady. She stood slightly apart from the rest, but that was likely by design of the big man who held her luggage and stood protectively between her and the crush of people. Her braided and looped brown hair and simple tan garments reminded him of the first time he had seen Padme. She had been posing as one of her handmaidens at the time. As he tried to get a glimpse of the girl's face, she looked up. Padme! Why was she on Corusant? She was supposed to be hiding on Naboo! She noticed him just as he reached her side.  
  
"Anakin." She breathed softly. Before he could say a word she turned to the man beside her. "Kran, this is Anakin Skywalker. He's. an old friend. Anakin, this is Kran Solo. He escorted me here from Naboo."  
  
Anakin looked at her questioningly before extending his hand toward Kran, "Hello."  
  
Kran's eyes were disturbingly penetrating. He seemed to be probing the depths of Anakin's soul to find him either wanting or worthy. He nodded slowly, but the look of distrust did not completely leave his eyes.  
  
Padme noticed the exchange and spoke up. "Thank you for helping me, Kran. I'll be fine from here."  
  
Kran put his hands on Padme's shoulders and turned her to face him. "You remember what I said and take care of yerself, little lady."  
  
"I'll be fine, Kran."  
  
For a moment he looked back and forth between her and Anakin, then he gave a tight smile, released her shoulders, and tapped her nose lightly. He turned and walked back onto the shuttle.  
  
Anakin walked toward Padme and put his arm around her waist as they watched the shuttle leave. "He's a wonderful man," Padme said softly. She turned and saw the slightly jealous look in Anakin's eyes. She threw her arms around him. "I've missed you."  
  
He hugged her tightly and said nothing. She pulled away all too soon for him. "We shouldn't do this out here. Someone might ask questions that we can't answer."  
  
A shuttered look came over Anakin's face. "Of course, milady."  
  
"Anakin, don't be like that. We knew it would be this way when we decided to get married."  
  
He nodded and the tense moment passed. "Where to?"  
  
"There are some secret chambers in the Senate building. I can stay there and no one will know."  
  
Anakin protectively put a hand to the small of her back and led her toward the imposing Senate building. When she realized he was headed toward the main entrance Padme pulled back. "Anakin, if I go in here I'll be recognized and it will be no use to try to remain secret."  
  
He smiled mischievously and looked into her eyes. "Then we'll have to be sure no one recognizes you."  
  
She raised her eyebrows. "What did you have in mind?"  
  
"We could pretend you were a part of my harem."  
  
"Anakin!" She squealed in protest, but he was laughing and she couldn't help but join in. "Jedi don't even have harems!"  
  
"I know." He said, still laughing. "If you could have seen the look in your eyes!!"  
  
When they reached the entrance the guards saluted her, "Senator Amidala." She looked nervously at Anakin.  
  
He looked into their eyes and waved his hand slightly. "This is not the Senator."  
  
"This is not the Senator."  
  
"You didn't see anyone come in."  
  
"I saw no one."  
  
Anakin and Padme walked into the entrance hall and turned left down a long hallway. Padme opened a door on the right. It was an empty chamber except for five large mirrors on the wall. "Well?" Anakin asked. She smile and walked to the center mirror, pressing a hidden switch in its intricate scrollwork frame. "Impressive." He said.  
  
"Thank you." She said as the mirror slid into the wall revealing a stone staircase. The original idea behind these chambers was to protect witnesses who needed to testify to the Senate. Sometimes there are people who would rather not let those witnesses be heard."  
  
He followed her into the dark recess. As soon as they were on the top of the stairs the door slid shut and glow panels lit the walls. They were unadorned bare stone. At the bottom of the stairs was a door. It was fashioned so that it would open into three pieces. Padme entered a code into the controls and the door opened until they were in, then slid shut with a finalizing hiss. Anakin looked around the apartment. He had for some reason expected a single bare room with a cot, but in reality it was quite comfortably furnished. The room they were in held a couch, table, and a few chairs. Off to the side he could see a food preparation station complete with dining table and chairs. Other doors he assumed led to sleeping chambers and "fresher." But one thing did bother him. "No security?"  
  
"To be sure that no one knew about the witnesses, there are no security monitors or sound detectors. For all practical purposes, these "secret rooms" don't exist. No one will know I am here unless they decide to use this room. But I don't think that will happen."  
  
"And why not? The Senate is still in session, anytime someone might need to hide-"  
  
"Anakin, it's okay. There are only two other people who know that this center chamber exists."  
  
"Oh?"  
  
"Once Senator Palpatine came into power, he had this chamber created in case the queen ever needed a place to hide like when the Trade Federation had us under siege. It's one of the perks of the Supreme Chancellor being from your home-world." Kran's accusations against Palpatine surfaced, but she pushed them down.  
  
"Why didn't you just come here when you were threatened?"  
  
"Well. If I told the Jedi Council this place existed, too many people would know about it and that would destroy its purpose. Besides, " she said with a side glance toward Anakin, "Someone was in such an awful hurry to get me away that I didn't even think of it."  
  
He smiled at her softly and sat on the couch. She sat close beside him, enjoying just being near him. "Padme, why are you here? You were much safer on Naboo."  
  
She sighed and looked at him. "Anakin, I can't just sit and wait for things to happen. We're in war, it's one of the most important times for a senator. I have to be here."  
  
"Oh, well that's a great way to blow your cover! You could just go right in and vote or-"  
  
"Don't yell, Anakin. I am well able to make decisions for myself! I made plans. Dorme will-"  
  
"And if I think your plans are too dangerous?"  
  
"Does it matter?"  
  
"As your husband? Does it matter if I think you're putting yourself in danger."  
  
She looked away for a moment. "Fine, I'll stay out of sight. I'll try to do things by proxy."  
  
He nodded. "Good. I wouldn't want anything to happen to you." She smiled at him, "How have you been, Ani?"  
  
"I'm tired."  
  
"You miss your mother."  
  
He nodded and looked at her with a half smile on his face.  
  
"Don't look at me like that." She said softly  
  
"Why not?"  
  
"It makes me feel uncomfortable." Even softer.  
  
His lips were a hairsbreadth away from hers when he said, "Haven't we had this conversation before?" 


	8. Sinister Plots

Chapter 8 In the darkness of a secret hangar in the center of Corusant, Darth Tyranus, know as Count Dooku, stepped from a sleek black speeder and walked confidently toward the man who waited for him. Darth Sidious peered at his accomplice from the depths of a dark cloak. He was even older than he appeared, although in ten years he had aged quite a bit. No one knew his real age, and no one cared to ask.  
  
"You sent for me, Sidious?" the Count's long career as a Jedi and a political idealist left him little respect for the scheming Darth Sidious. Perhaps he would have been wise to put on a better show, for Sidious was seething when he answered.  
  
"You must remember who I am."  
  
Dooku's voice was mocking when he replied. "I know too well who you are. You are a scheming traitor with no care for anything but yourself."  
  
Sidious nostrils flared as he growled, "And you are any better? You pretended to befriend the Separatists and help them build an army, all the while knowing that they would be destroyed."  
  
Dooku laughed, but it was far from a merry laugh. "All at your command, my dear friend."  
  
Sidious was silent for a moment. Dooku's time would come. "I suppose you wouldn't care to know why I summoned you?"  
  
Dooku quickly became serious. "I supposed you have bad news to our cause."  
  
"That is part of the reason. I also wanted to inform you of the next step in my - our plan. They are both connected."  
  
"You've sparked my interest."  
  
"The Senator is here."  
  
"On Corusant? I thought she was going to remain on Naboo until this "problem" had been solved."  
  
"According to our sources, that is true, but she is here. She is staying in the secret Senate chambers."  
  
"How did you find out?"  
  
Sidious laughed a chilling cackle. "Does it matter? Suffice it to say that the chambers are not as secret as she supposes."  
  
"But this could cause problems in our plan for the boy. She seems to have a positive influence on him."  
  
"Do you still have your. connections?"  
  
"There are still people who would like to see her dead, yes."  
  
"Then you will see to the details?"  
  
"With pleasure. And now for your other news?"  
  
"I paid a visit to an old friend and found out something that will help us immensely." Sidious motioned to the shadows behind him, and as Dooku watched, a very familiar figure stepped into the light.  
  
"Is that.?"  
  
Sidious nodded. Dooku watched the figure silently for a moment, then understanding dawned. He smiled wryly. "Your plan is very bold."  
  
"Aren't all of them?"  
  
Dooku extended his hand toward the small figure. "Darth Sidious, meet Padme Amidala." 


	9. Realization

Chapter 9  
  
Some things are simply not to be born. Padme Amidala was not a person who could sit by and let things happen to her. She wanted to be doing things. She wanted to be in control of a situation. She had been staying in her comfortable villa in the lake country of Naboo doing nothing. Now she sat in her plush secret chambers on Corusant doing nothing. It simply wouldn't be born!  
  
Padme sighed and took her empty platter to the food prep and placed it into the W-D, a droid that specialized in washing food utensils. She had been in these rooms for two days, and, as she had promised Anakin, no one knew she was there. She walked back into the living room and slumped onto the couch. She smiled to herself as she realized that this was probably the first time since she was fifteen that she had done anything for herself. Well, unless you counted the short time that she had been on Genosis and Tatooine. She hadn't had a handmaiden to do everything for her then. In some ways she wished she lived a normal life. She wished that she had never entered a political academy, that she had never become queen, that she had never agreed to be a senator. She wondered what it would have been like to have grown up in her parents' home and got married, and then had her own home. Someday she would have had children. She would have been able to choose the decorations for her own house. She would have made meals for her husband and children with her own hands. She probably never would have had a maid. She would have never met Anakin. As she remembered this she smiled. Yes, there was good in the path she had chosen. She helped people every day.  
  
Thinking of her work in the Senate reminded her of the warning she had received from Kran Solo. He seemed quite certain that there was corruption in the Senate, and he apparently held no great love for Chancellor Palpatine. Padme wasn't sure about him any more. At one time she had greatly admired him. He had helped her planet during the Trade Federation siege. He had moved himself into the position of Chancellor so that he could help. Yes. that was true. he had been very clever in getting himself in. It was quite coincidental that the siege on his home planet allowed him to become the most powerful man in the galaxy. Wasn't it? Padme wasn't slumping anymore. She sat up straight and tried to think. Things she had never even thought about suddenly surfaced. Palpatine's sorrow about his planet's predicament had been very evident, perhaps he was too sincere? Perhaps he knew about the Trade Federation and had even ordered the siege to give him an opportunity to oust Chancellor Vallorum. But, if he was in league with the Federation then, what was to stop him from being in league with them now? Why shouldn't he still know their plans? Padme began to pace her rooms, thinking to the point that it was almost painful. The Trade Federation had created an army, the Trade Federation had joined the Separatists. The Separatists had started a war. Palpatine was given emergency powers for the duration of the war. He immediately built an army to fight for the Republic. Except, the army had been started ten years before, almost as if someone knew what was going to happen. How interesting that it was started at the same time as the siege on Naboo. What if Palpatine had ordered the creation of the army and the siege on Naboo, knowing that it would allow him power? But what good would it do him? The Senate was already very confident in his leadership. The war wouldn't benefit anyone.  
  
Except Palpatine.  
  
"He's not going to give up his emergency powers! He's going to become an Emperor!" 


	10. Grief

Chapter 10  
  
He took two cautious steps in the darkness. The soft patter of his footsteps seemed like a shout in the empty silence. He paused, breathless. Had they heard? The clouds shifted for a moment and the light of the moon shone through faintly. Just enough light, he thought. He could see the hut only a few feet away from the place where he was standing. He knew instinctively that his mother was there.  
  
He pulled his lightsaber from his belt and walked the remaining few feet. The hut was made of some sort of animal hide. The stench was enough to turn a man's stomach, but he didn't even notice it. His thoughts were on one thing. He glanced around before igniting his saber and slicing through the hides. He pushed his way into the darkened hut.  
  
There she was, just as he had seen her so many times before. Her broken form hung from a wooden cross. He crept toward her and pulled her wrists loose from the leather thongs. Her body slumped against his as he sunk to the ground.  
  
"Mom?"  
  
She murmured his name and turned her bruised and sorrowful face toward him. "Why didn't you keep your promise?" she asked softly. "You promised to free them. Why didn't you?"  
  
"Mom, I'm sorry, I-" he halted. The shadowy figure was in front of them. A hood concealed its face. The figure bent over his mother. He heard a peculiar hum and a low gasp from his mother. The figure stood; his mother was dead. Somehow he knew that the figure was leering at him from the shadows of its hood. He did not shed a tear, but pure agony exploded from his heart and expanded until it filled every fiber of his being.  
  
He was unaware of the movement of the mysterious figure until he felt a chill breath on the back of his neck. The being laughed a mirthless, evil laugh. That was the last sound he heard before a blade pierced his back. He felt no pain. He was merely aware of the appalling sensation of a foreign object entering his body. He felt himself fading into the darkness.  
  
CCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCC  
  
Anakin's eyes popped open; his body was drenched in sweat. There were tears in his eyes, so he lifted his hand and wiped them away. He rolled out of the bed and walked toward the window. His hand rested on the frame as he stared at the city lights with unseeing eyes. His thumb traced patterns on the cool metal. The dream was coming now with alarming regularity. Each time it was longer and more frightening. Anakin thought of his mother's words. His promise.... He didn't even know he remembered that promise. Now it all came back to him.  
  
He had been so sure that Qui-Gon had come to free all the slaves. He hadn't. When he took Anakin away, Anakin had promised his mother that he would return to free her and all of the other slaves. He sighed softly. He had come back to free her, and he had found her free. He had seen her receive her ultimate freedom.  
  
Grief is such an odd thing. You never really get over losing someone you love. Some would say that time heals all wounds, but it doesn't. It had been several months since his mother's death, but Anakin still grieved. The memory had faded enough that he didn't think of it every waking moment, but at times the oddest things would remind him of Shmi. Memories that he had once held onto and treasurede now brought exquisite pain. Thinking of his mother reminded him of how she died. It reminded him of his failure. Anakin's hands clenched into fists. He thought of her being helpless as she was tortured by Tuskens. His fist pounded the window frame.  
  
"They're animals." He mumbled. That's what he'd told Padme. That was after he had slaughtered them.  
  
The thoughts exploded in his head and he whirled away from the window. He did the only thing he could do when he felt this way. He lashed out angrily. A remote was in the corner. He snatched it and pushed the button to activate it. He ignited his lightsaber and began to strike at the remote. He dodged and swiped. He grunted a few times. He leaped over the remote and struck it just as his door hissed open. A very sleepy Obi-Wan was staring at him questioningly. Anakin turned off his lightsaber and the remote instantly became still.  
  
"What are you doing, Anakin?" Obi-Wan's voice was groggy.  
  
Anakin panted, all of the feelings that had caused his to lash out were draining from him, leaving him weak and sorrowful. "I was - practicing." It was the only excuse he could think of.  
  
"In the middle of the night?" Obi-Wan asked. Anakin nodded. Obi-Wan frowned, then yawned. "Anakin, don't let your desire to become the best deprive you of the things that are important to you. Things like sleep."  
  
Anakin was crushed. He was in so much pain, nd Obi-Wan seemed to take every opportunity to put him down. He truly looked at Obi-Wan as a father figure, but lately he didn't even want to be around him. Anakin took a deep breath, "I'm sorry. I'll stop now."  
  
Obi-Wan nodded and shuffled away. The door hissed closed. Anakin's lightsaber dropped from his hand. All of his strength fled his body. The grief swept over him in waves. It wrenched his heart and tied his stomach in knots. He struggled to keep the tears and sobs back. He collapsed helplessly to the floor. The room was hushed, but it was filled with inaudible screams. 


	11. Sabotage

Chapter 11  
  
Padme had to find a way to make everyone else know what she knew, or thought she knew. Unfortunately, she had promised Anakin that she would not let anyone know she was on Corusant. She needed to contact Dorme. But how could she do this without alerting the entire planet of her whereabouts?  
  
CCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCC  
  
The imposing Senate building was relatively quiet. Speeders and ships flew near its dome, but not many were letting off passengers. Guards in silver and black uniforms stood at attention by the main entrance. A group of senators left the building. Although the guards barely glanced at them, they stopped a tourist who wanted autographs. Evidently visiting hours were over. Someone in a brown robe walked to the doors. Nothing of its face was visible. It was most likely an assistant to one of the outer rim senators. The robed one tripped on the threshold of the door and mumbled something in an alien language. The guards shrugged at each other and looked away. The brown robe kept walking.  
  
No one noticed the creature who had been hiding in the shadows of a nearby building. It was tall and robed in dark blue. Its only visible feature was a wrinkled gray snout. The brown robe passed a few feet from the blue one's hiding place. The blue robe quietly began to follow the brown one.  
  
The brown rode walked for a while on the crowded streets, dodging other pedestrians. It kept turning left until it was nearing the outskirts of the political part of the city. The buildings were progressively shabbier, until they had reached what was known as the "green horn district." This was the seed from which the powerful city of Corusant had sprung. Now it was plain seedy. The brown one took a lift to a lower level and entered a small garage.  
  
The blue robe stayed outside in the shade of the lift. It began to wonder if it had been tricked when a decrepit black speeder suddenly shot out of the garage doors. The speeder, with the brown one driving it, flew higher back into the main hub of Corusant. The blue one stared at it for a moment then entered the garage. CCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCC  
  
The black speeder choked and coughed as it sped through Corusant's airlanes. Padme took a deep breath then exhaled it with relief. The garage owner was an old friend of her family. He had moved to Corusant in hopes of starting a speeder renting business. He had found it a business too hard to run honestly and now made a living renting the speeders with "no questions asked." They weren't the most dependable vehicles, but they were cheap and they were not registered. To the kind of clientele that the garage appealed to, that was all that mattered.  
  
Padme tugged at the oversized hood of her brown robe. It was certainly not the most fashionable thing she had worn, but it had served its purpose. She had left the Senate building without being recognized, by tripping and muttering she was now sure that the guards would remember her, she had found untraceable transport and now all she needed to do was - what? She couldn't very well walk right into her official quarters and demand that Dorme come with her. There were too many people who could recognize her.  
  
She was so busy formulating a plan that she didn't even notice when the rusty green speeder started following her, and as she parked the speeder in a service hanger, she didn't see the blue robed creature that parked its green speeder far from hers. When she walked to a comlink and gave a message for Dorme she didn't see the creature slink toward her speeder, and when she slipped inside the building to wait she didn't see the creature put a small detonating device in her speeder. No one was there to see the creature punch in a few numbers. No one was there to see it creep back to its speeder. No one knew what it had done.  
  
CCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCC  
  
Wje Nasna had once been an honest man. He had operated a small shuttle business for the middle class tourists. He had had a wife and three children, small but comfortable living quarters in a decent place, and a very sporty speeder. He wasn't the most successful man on Corusant, but things were going good for him. Then a tourist had introduced him to the exciting world of betting.  
  
He began to frequent bars. First he started with the high class ones, clubs like the outlander. But as his money began to disappear, he had gone to any place that served a drink. He would buy death sticks and a drink, then proceed to gamble away his entire months earning. Many times he would come home and tell his wife that he had no money for food. They had been tossed out of their home, and he had to sell his speeder. When there was not enough money to feed his habits, he even sold their business. That was the last straw for his wife. She took his children and left Corusant. He hadn't even cared enough at the time to try to trace her. She was gone now, and he would never find her trail. Through it all he still managed to scrounge enough money for his drinks and his death sticks and his gambling.  
  
Now where was he? How far he had fallen! He had become the lowest of theives, stealing from the innocent to feed the demons inside of him. Could he quit? He had tried, but now his body shook when he had gone too long without a drink. Sometimes he had horrible cramps and pains. He had begun these habits thinking that he controlled them. Now he knew the truth. They controlled him.  
  
Why had he come here today? He stared at the building that housed the temporary living quarters of the senators. He supposed he knew that they would have the money that he needed. He wouldn't beg, but he could steal. Wje walked toward a hanger, not even completely aware of where he was going. It was a chilly day, but all he wore over his regular clothes was a thin cloak. He had never been a big man, but since he rarely bought food anymore he had shrunk. He had at one time been a slightly handsome man, but the drink and the smokes had turned him into a shriveled old man.  
  
He needed a drink and he needed one soon. His vision was blurred and he barely even remembered where he was. As he entered the hanger a green speeder zoomed past him, but he didn't even know it was there. His only thoughts were of the fine price the black speeder he saw would bring him in the market. He wondered how many drinks or smokes he could buy, or how many games he could bet on.  
  
CCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCC  
  
Dorme had been staring out the window, wondering where her mistress was when a low buzz announced a message for her. She walked to the center of the room and pressed the appropriate switch. An automated voice spoke in a halting monotone,  
  
"A friend is here to see you Dor-me. You are to bring your things and meet her in the ser-vice hang-ar. Please ask dear Miss Eve." The machine buzzed again and the message was over.  
  
Dorme frowned for a moment. She had no friends on Corusant, and what did that last bit mean, anyway? She puzzled over it for a moment, then smiled and laughed. She knew what the message meant, and it was rather clever. A machine certainly wouldn't understand, and anyone who intercepted the message wouldn't either. She moved swiftly to her room and tossed a few garments into a small bag. She fastened a warm cloak around her shoulders as she moved toward the lift. Her destination: meet Padme in the service hangar.  
  
CCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCC  
  
Dorme stepped off of the lift and ran toward Padme. They hugged each other warmly before Dorme thought of protocol and stepped back.  
  
"I'm glad to see you, milady. When I heard what happened on Genosis I feared for you."  
  
Padme nodded, "I'm sorry I couldn't tell you, but Anakin - um - Skywalker, you remember him, right?" Dorme looked curiously at her flustered, usually un-fluster-able mistress and nodded. Padme continued, blushing over her awkwardness. "Anakin said it would be best if I sent no messages to Corusant. We're - the Jedi and I - are trying to keep people from knowing that I'm here."  
  
Dorme nodded, still wondering at Padme's blushes and stutters, but she couldn't keep from smiling, "I am very glad to see you milady. I was worried."  
  
Padme motioned for Dorme to follow her as they walked toward the nearly empty hangar. "Dorme, a lot of things are happening. I need our help."  
  
She would have said more, but as the two women came in view of the parked speeders, a black one started up. Padme drew a blaster reflexively and yelled, "That's my - " She got no further. The frail looking man driving the speeder had given her a panicked look, then revved up the speeder. It almost made it out of the hangar before it exploded in a ball of flame. Padme and Dorme watched in horror, their mouths open. Padme said the first thing that came into her mind.  
  
"It was a rental." 


	12. Supreme Chancellor

Chapter 12  
  
The galaxy was in uproar. Chaos reigned. From planet to planet battles broke out. System was pitted against system, civilization against civilization, family against family, and brother against brother. Most of the fighting was not done by the droid armies of the Separatists or the clone army of the Republic. Instead each being took up arms to fight for his own belief and cause. Lawless confusion? No. It was not anarchy. It was controlled. It was organized. Someone knew what they were doing. Someone was in charge. =====================================================================  
  
The office of Supreme Chancellor Palpatine had an aura of power and authority. The dark shades of gray and burgundy would have been oppressive is not for the abundant light from the large windows. The Chancellor's massive desk sat on a raised dais. Everything about the desk and dais and the Chancellor's chair were designed to give visitors a feeling of insignificance when compared with the leader of the Republic.  
  
Just at present Palpatine was sitting serenely in his chair, staring out his god's-eye view windows at busy Corusant below. He was dressed in the ceremonial embroidered robes that denoted his position. He was not an unattractive man. He was perhaps fifty or sixty, beginning to bald, but most people only noticed how kind he was, how sincere and how caring. People trusted Supreme Chancellor Palpatine. That was why he was the Chancellor. That was why he had been given emergency powers. Never before in the history of the Republic had the Chancellor been given such free rein in times of crisis. Oh yes, Palpatine could be trusted.  
  
An aide stepped through the doors and cleared his throat. The chair on the dais slowly revolved and Palpatine raised his eyebrows questioningly. The aide spoke up. "The Senator from Naboo is here to see you." Palpatine smiled.  
  
"I would be happy to see Senator Amidala."  
  
The aide stepped back as a beautiful woman entered the room. The Chancellor moved swiftly and took her hand. "Senator Amidala. How wonderful to see you well. We were concerned when we heard that you were on Genosis."  
  
"Thank you, Chancellor." They walked toward the windows still talking and the aide bowed out, closing the door behind him. ======================================================================== 


	13. Before the Council

Chapter 13  
  
Once again Master Obi-Wan Kenobi and his apprentice stood before the Jedi Council. They were to be given a new assignment. The war, which some had begun to call the Clone War, had ended the usual diplomatic missions that Jedi were called upon to handle. For the past months the Jedi had been nearly inactive, but now they had plans and were ready to move again.  
  
Obi-Wan was elated to be sent on another mission. He had grown tired of these inactive months on Corusant and longed to be doing something again. He glanced at Anakin as they swiftly moved toward the Council room. His Padawan was not himself lately. Anakin had been moody, silent; Obi-Wan wasn't entirely sure what to make of him. Usually they had a strong bond, but now they were a bit divided. Maybe they just needed some time apart. Obi-Wan made a swift decision as they stood in the center of the room before the wise Jedi Masters.  
  
Yoda stared at the two of them for a moment, then tapped his stick on the ground and spoke, "Master Kenobi, greatly we wish to know if true this rumor of the Dark Lord Sidious is. Also, of these clones and Syfo-Dyas we do too wonder, how came into being this?"  
  
Wise Mace Windu lifted his head, "We must get to the bottom of this mystery. Obi-Wan, we would like you and your apprentice to see what you can find out."  
  
Yoda spoke up again, "Palpatine," if a Jedi Master could be suspected of doing so, one might think that Yoda had spat as he said the name. "Too ambitious he has become. Too much power he has been given. Leads to many questions - hmmm." He frowned and stared at the ground.  
  
Ki-Adi-Mundi finally broke the silence. "You and your Padawan must return to Kamino and see what new information you may find about this so called Sifo-Dyas."  
  
Windu nodded and added, "And whatever else you may find, your mandate allows you to travel anywhere until this mystery is solved. Go with speed and may the Force be with you."  
  
Obviously they were dismissed, and Anakin moved to leave, but Obi-Wan stayed still. Yoda looked at him questioningly. Finally, hesitantly, he spoke. "Masters, my apprentice will not be going with me on this mission."  
  
Everyone looked stunned. Anakin wasn't sure what to think. Mace frowned slightly. "This is most unusual, Obi-Wan."  
  
Yoda harrumphed. "Tell us who goes and who does not? It is not your place, Master Kenobi. Our own council we will keep on who is to go on which mission."  
  
"Begging your pardon, Masters." Obi-Wan quickly tried to cover his blunder. "I meant no disrespect. I don't think it is best for Anakin to go. I think I can best solve this myself. Please, trust me." He looked at them with pleading eyes. They appeared to be considering his request. Anakin was fuming, but kept silent. Finally Windu had made his decision.  
  
"If you think this is best, Obi-Wan, then you must do what you believe is right. Anakin will remain here."  
  
This was just about enough for Anakin, "I won't!" The room grew deadly silent and the Council stared at him, but he didn't back down from their glares or apologize. "I want to go on this mission. I can help you Obi- Wan!"  
  
Obi-Wan had expected this reaction, but he had hoped that Anakin might have waited until they were alone to share his thoughts. Now he appeared to be unable to control his Padawan before the Jedi Council. He spoke calmly, but his heart was racing. "Anakin, this is not the time to bring this up. I don't feel that you can help on this mission."  
  
Anakin snorted. He had turned to face Obi-Wan and his body language made it clear that this was open war. "I can do anything you can do and do it better." He pretended not to notice the shock and concern from the council. "I'm far ahead of you, Obi-Wan."  
  
Obi-Wan had a deep patience and gentleness, but he found that he had to fight now to keep from being angry. "Anakin, you must trust my judgment. I think it would be best if you stay here for this mission. I may encounter things that you are not prepared for."  
  
Anakin knew this wasn't the truth, but the reasoning behind his master's order he didn't know. All he knew for sure was that he was hurt and angry. How dare Obi-Wan make a fool of him before the council? "I am not a child." He didn't even notice that his hand was on his lightsaber. It was a reflex action. He was almost screaming at Obi-Wan. "I am not a youngling, I am not a member of the Might Bear Clan!!"  
  
Obi-Wan's words were low and soft, but they got their point across. "Perhaps you should be."  
  
Anakin turned fiercely toward the Council. "You see the way he treats me? He's just jealous of me."  
  
Obi-Wan tried to calm his Padawan, "Anakin."  
  
He didn't even hear him. "He's holding me back. He wants to be the Chosen One."  
  
"Anakin."  
  
"I'm a hundred times better than him! I don't even need him!" With that Anakin pulled out and ignited his lightsaber. He had taken a step toward Obi-Wan when it dawned upon him that his blade was being held back by at least a half dozen other humming blades. He hadn't even heard or seen the Council members move. He panted as his anger drained away. Across the row of stern faces and glowing lightsabers, he saw the face of his master and friend. Anakin read the hurt on Obi-Wan's face and was ashamed. What was happening to him? He shut off his lightsaber and hung his head. One of the Council members took the lightsaber from him and handed it to Obi-Wan, then sat down. Anakin was staring at the floor and missed the look that Obi-Wan gave him as he clipped Anakin's saber onto his belt.  
  
Mace Windu and Yoda exchanged worried glances. This was a startling development, but perhaps the boy was just overtired. Yes, that was it. Obi- Wan was wise to have him stay on Corusant When Obi-Wan returned Anakin would be rested and happy. They had nothing to worry about really. Yoda nodded, "With Master Obi-Wan, I agree. Young Anakin will stay on Corusant. Learn to obey his master, he must. No more will we speak of this matter." Again Obi-Wan and his apprentice were dismissed, but this time they thought it wise to leave. As Yoda watched their retreating forms he said one word. "Anger." 


	14. Contact

Chapter 14  
  
A young woman was driving a sporty blue and silver speeder through the calm airlanes above Corusant's political sector. She was what many would call beautiful. Her wavy brown hair was pulled loosely back from her face, highlighting full lips and dark eyes. She was dressed in a simply made red gown, but she wore it with a gentle grace that made the simple gown radiant. When she smiled all of the males within a hundred parsecs felt that the twin suns of Tatooine had just shone on them.  
  
But she was not smiling now. Her brow was creased with a concentrated frown and her long white fingers tapped the speeder controls impatiently. She gave a sigh of relief when she reached her destination and sprung from the cockpit, smoothing her gown. It was very simple indeed. It was made of some thick dull material. It had a high rounded neck and slightly flared sleeves. The most decorative thing she wore was a woven black belt. Even the bit of shoes that peaked out from the ankle-length skirt were plain.  
  
She walked briskly into the building, not even glancing at the people who smiled and moved to greet her. At last she stood before an ornate door. She typed a code into the control panel and the doors moved noiselessly back. She stepped into a meeting room as a tall man wearing a patch over one eye strode toward her beaming.  
  
"Senator! I am so pleased to see you."  
  
She nodded coolly. "Where is the Representative? I must speak with him."  
  
Captain Typho was a bit taken back by her stiff tone, but he kept his composure and answered back. "He'll be here shortly, milady. He's in an important meeting."  
  
"What could be more important-?" she checked herself sharply and took a calming breath. "Fine. I'll wait here. You may leave now."  
  
Captain Typho raised his eyebrow and exchanged glances with the distinguished man who was standing near a panel of windows. The man cocked his head to one side thoughtfully but said nothing. After a moment Typho bowed and exited. The woman moved to a cluster of couches and sat on one primly. The man strolled toward her slowly.  
  
"Senator Amidala, I'm sure you know how happy we are to know that you are safe." She didn't glance in his direction, just gave a short nod. He was looking at her oddly. "The Loyalist Committee has been unsure of what to do without your expert guidance."  
  
She was tapping her index finger on her knee, but at least she managed a reply. "I'm sure the Loyalists have continued to do fine without me. They will follow their own paths." He didn't make any more attempts at conversation. He merely sat near her and watched her thoughtfully.  
  
Footsteps in the outside corridor alerted them to the arrival of the Representative. The man stood as the door opened. A tall gangly creature with absurdly long ears clumped into the spacious apartment. The man spoke, "Representative Binks," and bowed respectfully.  
  
The creature broke into a wide toothy grin. "Bail Organa of Alderaan! Mesa been wantin to speak with you for a longo timo."  
  
Bail smiled. One could not help but smile at the amusing antics of the Gungan representative. "I have something to discuss with you as well, but someone is here to see you." He stepped aside and allowed the Gungan to see the small woman in red.  
  
Representative Binks spread his freckled arms wide. "Padme! Mesa was so fearin for you! Wesa heard about the Genosis." He shook his head and his ears flopped. "Terrible, terrible."  
  
She smiled ever so slightly and stood politely. "Thank you, Jar-Jar. We have important things to discuss."  
  
He bowed his head. "Of course, milady."  
  
She sat back down and waited until the other two sat. "First you should know that my being here must remain a secret. Tell no one I was here. Jar- Jar, for now you must continue to represent Naboo in my stead in the Senate. If any new issues are brought up I will tell you what position to take. For now, simply stand with the Chancellor. He has the best interests of the Republic in mind." This said she appeared to be finished, but Bail Organa spoke before she could move to leave.  
  
"Senator Amidala, how do you feel about this clone army? We have both fought long to prevent its creation. Now it seems are cause is lost."  
  
She treated him to a brief smile. "If not for that army, Senator Organa, I would not be here to speak with you."  
  
He nodded his agreement. "But does it not disturb you that the orders for the creation of this army was started ten years ago? Do you not find that odd?"  
  
She was a bit agitated. "The army was necessary. The Separatists made the first move of aggression. It does not matter why or wherefore or when this army was created. The army was created, it exists for the Republic and we must stand with the Republic." She softened and looked at the Alderaan senator earnestly. "The union of our Republic must be preserved at all costs and by whatever means." She stood and moved toward the door. "Now if you will excuse me, I've lingered for too long already."  
  
The Senator and Representative sat silently for several minutes after she had gone. At last Jar-Jar spoke. "Wassa yousa thinkin, Senator?"  
  
Bail sighed and looked blankly into the distance. "I'm not sure. I - " he sighed and shook his head. "I just don't know." 


	15. Thoughts

Chapter 15  
  
Obi-Wan Kenobi was thoughtful as he strode to his ship on the landing platform. The confrontation with his Padawan had concerned him deeply. He had half expected that Anakin would throw a fit when he learned he was being left behind, but Obi-Wan had not been prepared for Anakin to lash out in the way he had. For a moment, the boy stopped being his sweet, but cocky and impulsive apprentice, and became a monster. Something had been lurking behind his eyes. There was anger, yes, that was certain, but there was also something indefinable. Pride? No, Obi-Wan had seen Anakin be prideful before. But this was very different. For the first time, Obi-Wan had actually been afraid of his gifted Padawan. It hurt him that he would be afraid of this little boy. No, maybe it wasn't that he was hurt so much as his pride was wounded. It had been embarrassing to be contradicted by his Padawan in front of the Council. Suppose they thought he was incapable of teaching Anakin? He had been doing it for ten years, but what if they decided that Anakin's training should be passed on to someone else?  
  
He analyzed his feelings with the cool impartiality of an onlooker. He must truly care for the young man if he became that upset at the thought of losing him, yet if he was honest with himself, he knew that he was truly jealous of Anakin's powers. That one so young should be so talented seemed almost unfair. Obi-Wan shook off these thoughts, but as he did he remembered Yoda's words to him. Obi-Wan had been telling the Jedi Master of his concern over Anakin's cockiness. Yoda replied that this was becoming common among the Jedi. "Even older, more experienced Jedi." At the time he had not though much about that comment, but now he wondered. Had those words been directed toward him?  
  
He smiled slightly when he heard a chirruping welcome from his astrodroid. "Hello R-4. I'm glad to see you too." He adjusted his seat as the ship's canopy lowered. It had been too long since he had flown this ship. He would have to relearn it. Each ship flew and handled differently. Some people would say that once one learned to fly, that skill stayed forever, but for Obi-Wan, if he did not stay in practice, he had to learn to fly over and over. His Padawan on the other hand- Obi-Wan pushed that train of thought away and shifted as his ship lifted from the landing platform. He could not deny that he had little love for flying, but in life one must get used to unpleasant things. The ship connected to its booster and moved out of the path of the skylanes. He smiled slightly as he punched in familiar coordinates. "The missing planet just south of the Rishi Maze." He enjoyed the whimsical sound of the words until he realized he was talking to himself. He was too used to --- never mind.  
  
The ship shot into hyperspace: he would not need to bother with it for a while. He took a few deep breaths and began to concentrate on the job ahead of him. He must find more about the creation of this clone army. Perhaps to some, it would seem that the Jedi should have tried much sooner to find out why this army was created. After all, it had come to light at the most interestingly convenient time. But, the Jedi had their own sense of timing. There had been more important things to worry about at the time, but now that the immediate was taken care of, they were ready for some answers. Obi- Wan was scarcely aware of the stars streaking past. He shook himself when R- 4 beep and squeaked. "Alright, R-4, alright. We're close I suppose." He typed a few commands into his control panel as watched as the planet of Kamino came into view. "Welcome back!" he said dryly. 


	16. Summons

Chapter 16  
  
Anakin had been summoned to the Council, and he went with a measure of anxiety. They had not called for him since his outburst with Obi-Wan. He had almost expected to be expelled from the Order, or at least severely reprimanded, but nothing had happened. He had been by himself since the incident. If they had expected Obi-Wan to deal with him, they were sadly mistaken. Obi-Wan had said nothing to him when they left the council room and had left for Kamino within the hour, all the time not saying a word to Anakin. For this Anakin was grateful. He had dreaded the long lecture he had thought to receive from his master. He knew he deserved it, but he didn't think that there was possibly anything that Obi-Wan could tell Anakin that he hadn't told him a dozen times before.  
  
Anakin was not sure why he had lashed out in that manner. He really didn't mind staying on Corusant while his master went to Kamino. From what he had heard of the planet it did not sound appealing. Something had snapped in him. He had grown so tired of Obi-Wan's insults that some subconscious part of him had decided to fix things so that he never had to hear them again. He had lashed out in anger, something a Jedi should never do. The odd thing was though, he had enjoyed it. Usually when he fought he was conscious of holding back his full powers. This time he had been free. It was as if his hands and feet had been unchained and he was able to move as he wished. If there had not been so many Jedi in the room at the time he was sure he would have killed Obi-Wan. The thought both saddened and exhilarated him. He knew that he was the better fighter anyway, but this new energy had made him feel invincible. He had never felt so powerful and he relished the moment.  
  
But it appeared that the Council had at last decided to deal with him. He was nervous as to what they would say, but ready to defend his actions. Though, truly, he knew there was no excuse for what he had done. His hand went reflexively to his belt and he grimaced when he realized that Obi-Wan still had his lightsaber. Had Obi-Wan taken it with him to Kamino? Anakin almost turned aside to Obi-Wan's quarters to search for it, but changed his mine and kept toward the council chamber. He felt vulnerable without his trusty weapon, but he couldn't afford ro anger the Council further by being late. 


	17. An Enjoyable Mission

Chapter 17  
  
Anakin straightened his robe nervously before pushing the controls for the door. He started to step inside, then stopped in surprise. He had expected all of the Council to be assembled to met out his punishment, but only three figures were in the massive room. Mace Windu and Yoda, they were expected, but it was the third person that caught Anakin's attention. The dark features and trimmed goatee were the familiar form of the Senator from Alderaan.  
  
Mace broke the silence. "Please come in, Anakin. Senator Organa has something important to share with us." Anakin knew then that he was not to be punished. Though Mace's tone was guarded, he was not angry. Anakin took a steadying breath and walked to the center of the room. Yoda nodded at him slightly then turned to Bail Organa.  
  
"Your story we will now hear."  
  
The Senator bowed deferentially, then began. "Honored Masters, I have some concerns. I think it may be beneficial to the Jedi, and indeed the Republic, if someone investigates these questions. I have asked Jedi Skywalker to be here because I know that he and Master Obi-Wan know Senator Amidala quite well." Anakin stiffened slightly at the mention of Padmé. Mace Windu and Yoda glanced at each other curiously. He continued, "I am sure you have heard the rumors that the Senator has been seen on Corusant." Anakin looked quickly to the Masters to see their reaction and was surprised to see their calm agreement. It was only then that he frowned, wondering why anyone would know that Padmé had left Naboo. Bail kept speaking, "She had been seen talking with the Supreme Chancellor and has been spotted in other parts of the city." At the encouraging, even pressing looks from the three Jedi he continued. "Her presence has been confirmed by - well, by a very reliable source." Anakin slumped slightly. There was no chance now that Padmé could remain on Corusant unnoticed. He had told her to stay out of the public eye, but for some reason she had even gone to see the Supreme Chancellor.  
  
Yoda broke into Senator Organa's halting tale with a sigh. "If important news you have to share, do so, Senator. If not, we have other matters to attend to. Political gossip interests us not."  
  
Bail Organa recognized the not-so-subtle hint and apologized. "I'm sorry to take up your time, Masters. If you will allow me to finish, though, I do believe that my news bears investigating." He paused and looked as Windu nodded encouragingly. "My 'reliable source' is myself." Yoda's big ears and Mace's and Anakin's eyebrows shot into the air. Now this was interesting! "Senator Amidala visited Representative Binks in his apartment two days ago. I have been puzzling over it ever since and at last decided to come here. I do not have much to go on really," here his tone was once again apologetic, "It's just what you might call a hunch. The Senator acted very strangely."  
  
Anakin stirred uneasily as Mace asked, "Strangely? How so?"  
  
Senator Organa frowned as he tried to put his feelings into words. "She was very - brusque. She did not act as genteel as she usually does. She even snapped at me when I asked her how she felt about the army. Nothing she did in particular stands out to me, there was just something about her that didn't - feel right." He finished helplessly. Then he made a small movement as he remembered something. "She still plans to remain hidden. She will tell Representative Binks what to do. That is odd."  
  
Anakin spoke before he realized what he was doing. "I told her to." Only when he saw the looks from the other three did he realize his mistake. "That is - when I took her back to Naboo - I told her to remain hidden -" His voice trailed off and he knew that no one was fooled by his lie. At last he spoke again. "I saw her a few days ago. She was getting off of a shuttle. I helped her to a secret hiding place and told her not to reveal herself." That at least was true. Still, he knew they would not be happy.  
  
Mace frowned. "And you did not bother to tell the Council of her presence?"  
  
Anakin moved his head side to side as he thought. "No, the Senator did not wish anyone to know she was here. That is, since I am an old friend, she knew I wouldn't tell. I mean, since I saw her she couldn't hide-" He stumbled over his words, but the others seemed to believe him.  
  
Yoda seemed to have a permanent frown these days, and it deepened at this bumbled explanation. "When will she learn to trust us? Hidden her we have. Protected her we have. Found her killers we have. Yet still trust us she will not."  
  
Anakin spoke quickly. "People want her dead. Can you blame her?" Perhaps he was pushing too far. After all, they must not suspect the depth of his emotional attachment to Padmé. He calmed himself and spoke again. "I'm sorry, Masters. Perhaps I should have alerted you of her arrival, but I thought it best to do things her way."  
  
Bail nodded and spoke. "Then you know where she is? You can find her?"  
  
Anakin looked at his feet for a moment, then lifted his head and nodded at the other three. "Yes, I know where she is."  
  
Yoda and Mace Windu were still obviously disconcerted that the Padawan had kept this secret, especially when they thought of his recent outburst. Yet they sighed in resignation. They could see no real reason to look into Senator Organa's thoughts, but Anakin was doing nothing anyway, and it was the job of the Jedi to protect the Republic. At last Mace lifted his hands to his chin and spoke. "We will allow Jedi Skywalker to visit the Senator and find any problems that she has." Bail Organa relaxed visibly.  
  
Anakin smiled a bit. This was a mission he would enjoy. He bowed respectfully. "Thank you, Masters. I won't fail you."  
  
Yoda smiled one of his frightening prophetic smiles and his eyes widened. "No. You won't young Skywalker. Of that I am sure." 


	18. A Confrontation

Padmé had been in agony, knowing she must take some action, yet not sure what action she should take. She had promised Anakin that she would stay hidden, so she could not go to the Senate. She thought of her original plan to meet with Jar-Jar, but discarded it as pointless. A plan flitted through her brain, but it was so drastic that she didn't even give it a second thought. At last she decided that she must meet with the Supreme Chancellor. If she made certain that no one else saw her she would be safe. Her principles demanded that she take no course of action against a person or movement until she was certain of their purpose.  
  
Dormé was out buying food for them, so Padmé was alone in the shabby apartment. After the blundered attempt on her life she knew it would not be safe to return to her hidden apartments, so she had rented this little space in Corusant's underbelly. She couldn't appear unnoticed in the Senate building. At least, she could not be unnoticed as herself. Now Dormé. Padmé searched the apartment until she found the suitcase that Dormé had brought with her. A smile played about Padme's lips as she thought of the clever code that she had used to let Dormé know who was calling for her. Padmé rifled through the suitcase, pushing aside several formal gowns until her hand lighted on a familiar object. She wondered why Dormé had brought this gown, a simple flame-colored, hooded dress that Padmé had worn as a disguise during the war with the Trade Federation. It was a bit snug, she had gained some weight in the ten years since she had last worn the gown, but it would serve its purpose. She scribbled a note to Dormé then left the building.  
  
CCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCC  
  
Chancellor Palpatine watched the security monitor with a wry smile. A single clone trooper paced back and forth along the corridor under the watchful eye of the Supreme Chancellor. One might wonder what was going on inside the great leader's head. Did he smile at the irony of a soldier in the halls of this great building, one whose sole purpose was to promote peace? Or was that strange gleam in his eyes one of triumph? Whatever he was thinking, his reverie was interrupted by the buzzing of an intercom on his desk. A lifeless voice droned, "A Dormé is here to see you, sir." He looked up curiously. If he was not mistaken, Dormé was an assistant to Senator Amidala. "Send her in," he clipped.  
  
He settled himself in an imposing manner at his desk and waited until his doors hissed open. The slim girl in red had her head covered in a hood, and her face was down so that he could not see its features. In a whisper she asked, "May I speak with you alone?" He shrugged and waved his hand, dismissing his red-clad guards. When the door shut behind them the girl lifted her head. The Chancellor was surprised not to see the maidservant, but the mistress standing in his office. For one unguarded moment, a look a displeased shock covered his face, but it was immediately smoothed into a delighted smile as he stood and walked toward the former queen of Naboo.  
  
"Senator! How delightful to see you! I did not know that you were on Corusant. You should have told us." He stretched out his hands toward her and she took them distrustfully. His voice was very sincere, and she did not doubt that he was pleased to see her. For a brief moment her heart stabbed her as she looked at the man who had taken such a fatherly interest in her. To distrust him after everything he had done for her and her people seemed the grossest ungratefulness. But then she stiffened with resolve. If he truly was plotting to take over the Republic for his own good, if he had manipulated these things to happen as they had, he did not deserve pity. She smiled a tight formal smile.  
  
"I thought it wise to allow my presence here to go unnoticed. There are still those, Chancellor, who would sooner see me dead then alive." The Chancellor raised his eyebrows in a seemingly shocked expression.  
  
"But Senator, I would have thought that after the Battle of Genosis, those who wished to see you dead would have been satisfied. Or at least, I would think that they would be too preoccupied with other things to bother trying to kill because of an old grudge!" Padmé looked at him as she tried to gauge his emotions and the truth behind his words. At last she answered him.  
  
"It would seem that some grudges are more important and run more deeply then the blood of their people." She paused and looked at him penetratingly. "And some ambition knows no bounds, and will stop at nothing to get what it thinks it deserves."  
  
He stared at her hard. The two of them were sizing each other up. At last he gave a grudging smile. "Sometimes, ambition springs from a desire to do the best for the people. If the present situation is harmful to the populace at large, is it not the duty of the leaders to change the present situation."  
  
"Not if the leaders do not have the permission of the people to change the situation."  
  
"And if the leaders know what is best for the people even when the people do not approve?"  
  
"Then it is the duty of the leader to follow what the people want, and allow them to choose their own destiny."  
  
They looked at each other for another long moment, and it was clear that there were no questions between them. At last the Chancellor spoke. "Ahhh.. Destiny. Such a frail, changing thing."  
  
She shook her head, and a few tears glinted in her eyes. "I fear, Supreme Chancellor, that my destiny lies along a different path then yours. While I thought you upheld the convictions of the Republic, I would have stood with you to the end. Now I know that my first duty is to the ideals of the Republic. I must first protect the essence of that institution, even if I must go against the embodiment of it." She bowed her head sadly. Realizing that the plan she had discarded as too bold was now her only choice.  
  
The Supreme Chancellor frowned at her. "You have been a great help to the Republic, Senator." A malicious grin changed his face. "Or should I say, you have greatly furthered my plans. I am sorry that we can no longer be allies. Good day." He turned and walked to the great windows and Padmé covered her head and fled the building as quickly as she could. After she was gone the Supreme Chancellor walked to his desk and punched a few commands. A blurry holograph appeared before him. It spoke.  
  
"Do you have more news?"  
  
"It would appear that our Senator is not dead."  
  
"I told you that."  
  
"But she is aware of our plans now, and she is not afraid."  
  
The holograph bowed. "Then I shall double my efforts." 


	19. Tipoca City

Chapter 19  
  
Obi-Wan sat in his fighter for a moment, watching as the everlasting rain of Kamino drummed against the glass canopy. He was mentally collecting himself, preparing his mind for his mission. Now was not the time to worry about Anakin, or even to mull over the problems in the Republic. He must concentrate on the task at hand. There were still many unanswered questions about the Clone Army. Those doubts centered specifically on the army's creation. Obi-Wan was fairly certain that Master Sifo-Dyas had no knowledge of the army being built in his name. But that was just Obi-Wan's opinion. He was here to gather facts.  
  
With his mind properly focused, Obi-Wan was ready to begin. He ran over his gear in his mind. Holo-graphic recorder, voice recorder, and comlink: one last thing he needed to check. He glanced at his belt to be sure his lightsaber was ready. He had never once forgotten it, yet he still checked before every mission. He was a bit taken aback when he realized that he had not one, but two sabers clipped to his belt. Anakin! Obi-Wan had forgotten to return the weapon to his apprentice. He silently cursed himself as he unclipped it. If Anakin faced any sort of danger, he would not be prepared. How many times had he lectured Anakin on the importance of keeping one's saber by one's side? Yet here he was, the teacher, holding his student's lifeline. Obi-Wan almost tossed the weapon onto the seat beside him, the changed his mind and clipped it back on his belt. An extra saber might come in handy.  
  
"All right then," he said, taking a bracing breath. He pulled his brown hood over his head and lifted the canopy. Leaping lightly onto the loading platform he waved at R4 then walked to the glass doors. As they opened a very wet Obi-Wan stepped into the bright hallway.  
  
A familiar figure glided toward him. It was Taun We, the Kaminoan in charge of meeting with clients. She made a deferential motion with her hand as she reached Obi-Wan. "Jedi Master Obi-Wan Kenobi." She said in her slow drawl. If not for the serious look on his companion's face, Obi-Wan would have laughed at this unnecessary use of his full title. As it was he bowed his head and replied.  
  
"Taun We, I am pleased to see you again. If I might, I should like to speak with the Prime Minister."  
  
Taun We nodded. "Of course, follow me."  
  
Tipoca City had a sterile environment. When he had first seen its graceful curve, Obi-Wan had been struck by its architectural beauty. Now he knew that the beauty was unintentional. It appeared only as it coincided with frugality and purpose. The Kaminoans did everything as efficiently as possible. A side glance at Taun We confirmed this theory. Her clothes were functional and non-constricting, obviously no fashion dictated what she wear. She had not a spare ounce of flesh on her tall frame, and her smooth strides were carefully calculated to cover the longest distance possible while using the least possible effort. The artificial light of Tipoca City beamed from the walls and ceiling. Light fixtures would perhaps have been more attractive, but this way was certainly more efficient.  
  
Obi-Wan thought grimly thought that if it were possible to use the motion of water, from waves or rain, for an energy source, the Kaminoans would have found a way. Of course, that was impossibility. Even the smallest child knew that chemicals and complicated devices were the only possible source of energy. They turned a corner as he thought that the only possible industry on this ocean planet was cloning. Farming and livestock breeding would never happen. The everlasting rain would hinder mines and factories. Besides, what would one mine? The only natural resource Kamino had to offer was water - lots of water.  
  
"The moisture farmers of Tatooine would have a field day!" He muttered aloud.  
  
Taun We heard him as she paused before a doorway. "I'm sorry?" When he shook his head she motioned him into he room. "The Prime Minister awaits."  
  
As Obi-Wan bowed before the crested Kaminoan he half wondered if the prime minister ever did anything other then sit in his chamber. Obi-Wan chastened himself and forced his mind onto the mission at hand. "Prime Minister, it's a pleasure to see you again.  
  
Lamu Su inclined his head to acknowledge the Jedi's words, the motioned for him to take a seat. "How may I help you, Master Jedi?"  
  
Obi-Wan paused and looked at Taun We. For some reason he didn't feel right about letting her hear the story. She saw his glance and tactfully exited. Lama Su repeated his question.  
  
"May I help you? Have you come to order more clones? As you know, we have been deprived of our original host. Although it is possible to take genetic material from a clone, we prefer fresh information. The cost will be considerably more in this manner." His eyes flickered slightly at the thought of money, then and idea occurred to him. "Perhaps the Republic has asked you to be the new host! We have always believed that a Jedi was the most desirable source for a clone army."  
  
Obi-Wan felt no small sense of alarm at Lama Su's words. The thought of thousands of force-aware soldiers sent into the galaxy made his blood run cold. They would be trained to use their powers for death and destruction. In that case what would make these clone soldiers any different from the Sith? He shuddered, as he answered, "No, I'm afraid that's not why I'm here." He took a deep breath and launched into his carefully honed story. "The Senate questions the efficiency of clones. Although there can be no doubt that they are doing a marvelous job, questions arise. Droids are both faster to build and cheaper. Admittedly, they cannot think creatively, but the Republic wishes to know if the one makes up for the other. A citizen army is also being considered. Although they could not be as well trained, they would have loyalties. The clones are merely obedient, whereas citizens would be fighting for their homes. And then - " he paused and tried to think of a tactful way to say his next piece so as not to offend the reputable cloner. "Some of the more conservative members of the Senate have reservations about the - moral concerns of a clone army." He did not add that he himself found the practice slightly atrocious.  
  
If Obi-Wan had expected Lama Su to be offended, he was mistaken. To the Kaminoans, the clones brought in money, period. They had no concerns for the moral standards of others. In fact, unless reminded by an outside source, they were unaware that the entire galaxy did not share their lack of morals. With dignity Lama Su stood. "What would you have me do, Master Jedi? Shall I cancel the Republic's order?"  
  
Obi-Wan stood as well, rather more quickly then the Prime Minister had. "Good heavens, no! I merely ask permission to gather information to present to the Senate. I am sure that they wish to continue business with Kamino."  
  
Lama Su returned to his seat and nodded. "I understand. One should always know the fine points of one's investments. I will call a guide."  
  
Obi-Wan remained on his feet, part of his mind wondering at the callousness of growing human beings for the sole purpose of allowing them to be killed. He shrunk from the thought of calling children investments. 


	20. Found

Chapter 20

It was an unpleasant street in an unpleasant district. Only the very desperate or the very foolish dared walk in its slimy muck. It was a place where the forbidden was allowed and the illegal was encouraged. Even the local la enforcement steered clear of Loto Row. Yet as dangerous as it was, the Row was always teeming with living creatures. Some came to experience hidden sins, others came simply to hide.

Of the latter sort was Padmé Amidala as she wove her way through the crowded street. Various life forms pressed about her on all sides, but she seemed not to notice them. Her movements were erratic. She walked slowly, then turning to look back she stopped. An alien in a blue robe stopped also. It looked at a peddler as if the assortment of street scraps were fascinating. Padmé started moving again. So did the alien in blue. She picked up her pace a little and the blue one did, too. The alien nearly tripped and looked down at the ground to right itself. When it looked back Padmé was gone. It ran forward to find her but ran into a couple of ruffians instead. By the time it had freed itself Padmé was long gone.

************

Padmé barely dared to breathe as she hid in the small alley. She had picked up the tail somewhere between the Senate building and Loto Row and had frantically been trying to evade it. She didn't know who was following her, but she was sure that if they had been friendly they would have made their presence known. She hadn't seen the blue-robed alien pass, but it had been several minutes since she had gone into the alley. Surely if it had seen her it would have caught her by now. Should she peep out? Padmé crouched on the ground and shifted her weight from foot to foot. If the tail was waiting just outside the alley she would pounce on it. It was a risky move, but she didn't feel like waiting around to be caught. She took a readying breath and poked her head around the wall in one smooth moment. Clear. She didn't stop to consider what that meant. Instead she bounded from her crouching position to her feet and sped down the street at her fastest run. She made the mistake once of glancing back and thought she saw a flash of blue. She muttered to herself as she sped up and dodged people who stood in her path. Her side ached a bit. Senatorial duties may stretch and strengthen the mind, but they do not stretch or strengthen the muscles. For security reasons Padmé stayed in good shape, but she still did not feel up to this kind of race through the streets.

The housing complex was in sight now, and she breathed a sigh of relief and slowed a bit. Bad move Padmé. A long arm grabbed her and wrapped around her waist. Her first reflex was to deliver a powerful kick, but she was tiring and the attacker moved easily out of the way. As she struggled another arm wrapped securely around her. She glanced up into the face of a grimy beggar man. He seemed to be barely alive, but for one seemingly so weak he had a strong grip. She hissed and tried ducking from his grasp. The blue-robed follower might catch her at any time. The beggar laughed.

"Here pretty lady, I just want to sell you something."

Padmé grunted as she struggled. She couldn't help but marvel at the strength of this emaciated-looking man. She managed to dislodge her red hood as she tried to squirm out of his grasp. "I don't want to buy anything," She gasped. "I just want to go home."

"Oh… she doesn't want to buy anything. That's too bad for pretty lady. I want to sell her something and she won't even look. Isn't that sad? How unkind of her." The man clucked his tongue and shook his head. "I went to a lot of trouble to bring her here and now she won't even look. And after I serve tea." He shook his head again.

Padmé's earlier frustration was rapidly growing into fear. The man was clearly deranged, and with his superhuman strength he could easily kill her. Padmé tried another way. She stopped struggling and smiled what she hoped was a disarming smile. "Sir, I would love to look at your merchandise, but you are holding me so tightly I can barely breathe. Wouldn't it be better if – "

He had been tilting his head to one side listening up till now, but his eyes suddenly opened wide and he gasped, "She's trying to trick me? I wouldn't think it of the pretty lady. She isn't nice then is she, Unice?" He looked at some point above his head as if conversing with a friend.

Padmé's panic was rising, and she now feared that this strange man would drag her away somewhere. Time for another tactic. She knew that some mental doctors were in favor of humoring a sick patient's fancies. She forced her voice to be calm. "Unice? Would you please tell the nice gentleman that I will look at his merchandise if he lets me go?" The man shook his head emphatically and pressed his lips together as if to say there would be no negotiating. Well diplomacy wasn't going to work. Padmé remembered a phrase of Anakin's and smiled slightly. She suddenly went limp in the beggar's arms, and when he shifted his weight to keep from dropping her she ducked quickly and forcefully. Now that she was out of the circle of his arms the beggar grimaced angrily and ran toward her. Padmé gathered herself up and prepared to move. He was in her range now and reached out his arm to grab her. Padmé suddenly sprang, lifting her right leg and spinning it with all her momentum. The impact of her foot hitting the beggar's face sent him sprawling several feet away, and Padmé heard the sickening sound of crunching bones. She didn't stop to see if the man rose again but sprinted to her door. As she punched in her security code she shook her head. "Now that's what I call aggressive negotiation. 

She stepped through the door and tried to ignore the smells that greeted her. Whoever had rented the small apartment before she did had kept some type of pet. Padmé sank gratefully to the floor beside the door and put her head between her knees as she took deep breaths. She decided to put herself on a strict exercise regimen. If today was a sampling of what her life would be from now on she would need to be in shape. She began to must on her future life and wondered what steps she could take now. She was positive that Chancellor Palpatine was going to set himself up as some sort of permanent dictator, and she was determined to foil his plans. She couldn't help the tears that fell from her eyes. She was an idealist, and seeing her pretty imaginations crumpled around her ears was most unpleasant.

Padmé stiffened as a low buzz alerted her to a presence at her door. She stood slowly. No one knew she was here, and she did not want any visitors. The only person who could possibly be at her door was the old beggar man and she did not intend to invite him in for tea. She purposefully turned her back to the door and walked down the hall intending to fix herself a drink. The door slid open. Padmé panicked and ran toward the small living area at the end of the hall. She was vaguely aware of someone calling her name, but it did not register that the beggar did not know who she was. She heard footsteps drawing near to her and she instinctively tucked and rolled. When she bounced up she was grabbed from behind. Padmé screamed and kicked expecting to hear the voice of the old man. The attacker said nothing, just held her until she calmed down, then turned her toward him. Padmé gave a joyous cry and flung her arms around the familiar figure. "You scared me. I thought you were someone else."

Anakin smiled and tightened his grip on his wife. "It's nice to see you, too, Mrs. Skywalker."


	21. Rotten Fruit

In a more lucrative sector of Coruscant a humble merchant hoisted a crate of assorted farm-type fruits onto his shoulder with a sigh. "Are you sure there's not anything else you could sell me?" he asked the seller who lounged with cat-like ease against a barrel of tropical fruit from some exotic place. The seller shifted his weight a bit and frowned. "Not satisfied with what we've got, are we?"

The merchant gave a half-smile, "Let's just say that some fruit goes bad quicker than others."

The seller nodded as if he had been waiting to hear those words and immediately all pretense of ease fell away. He looked around the empty store as if he expected the walls to hear him, then pulled from a dusty crate an over-ripe mango. "This is what you have been looking for," he said as he handed it to the merchant.

"Some people would be very happy to have this fruit, I suppose," replied the merchant gingerly taking the fruit and placing it in an airtight container, then securing the container under his flowing robes.

Stretching, the seller leaned against the barrel again. "I hear that some of the low-down Coruscant scum find it quite valuable," he said in a conversational tone. The two men stared hard at each other, and it seemed that many things passed unspoken between them. A customer entered the fruit store and began examining some melons. The merchant nodded sharply at the seller and said in a light voice, "I'll be back in a month once I take care of these."

"Be safe!" the seller said cheerfully then turned his full attention to the new customer.

The merchant hurried his way through the fruit district, shifting the heavy crate from shoulder to hip then to shoulder again. He passed many impressive fruit stores ran by aliens from all over the galaxy, but without glancing at them he headed for the lower-end fruit stores. At last he came to a stretch of old-fashioned outdoor markets. Perusing them carefully he finally decided on one ran by a shabby, disreputable-looking human. "I'm looking to dispose of this fruit," he said.

The other man growled to himself and knocked some rotten fruit and seed from the counter. "Put 'em here and lemme look at 'em." The merchant put them down obediently and patiently waited as the marketer pinched and prodded. Finally he grunted, "Looks good. Come into this shack while I arrange payment." He motioned for the merchant to follow him into the tent behind his display area.

As soon as the two were safely in the market-man's façade melted away. "Did you secure it?" he asked in a breathless voice.

The merchant fished the airtight container from his robes and put it in the other's filthy hand. The fruitier slid it open and removed the mushy mango. With a shiny probe that looked out of place in the dark and dirty tent he tested the center of the mango. When he found what he was looking for he lay the mango on a nest of towels and carefully cut it open with a weak laser. In the center of the two stinking, smoking halved was a tiny plexiglass ball holding an even smaller chip. The fruitier's breath escaped him with a soft "woosh." "It's here," he said picking up the ball and cradling it in his palm.

"What is it?" queried the merchant.

"Can't tell you that," answered the other. "The less you know the less dangerous it is for you."

"Dangerous?"

"You know. You know what we're facing; I don't need to spell it out."

The merchant smiled sadly, "Sometimes it's nice to remember…" he trailed off and when he spoke again his voice was very low, "It's bad already, and this is only the beginning. What will our children face?"

The fruit-seller had been working at the precious chip but at that comment he spoke icily, "Let us pretend to believe that it can be stopped."

Seeming to remember something the merchant put his hand on the other's arm. "You owe me something."

"I'm sorry?" the fruit man was caught up in his work.

"Tell me about Padmé Amidala," said the merchant smoothly.

"Why the interest?"

"I just think that we need her, that she might be some help or…" he shrugged.

The other man frowned for a moment then moved aside a stack of empty crates revealing a small computer console. After pecking away at the keyboard for a few moments he cleared his throat. "Padmé Amidala Naberrie. Former Queen of Naboo, now Senator representing her home planet. Strong history of support for the Chancellor."

"Interesting. Not looking encouraging," the merchant murmured, sitting on an old barrel.

"Ehh.. There's more." The other said raising his head to look at his companion. "Don't sit on that it'll break." The merchant stood guiltily and the other man continued. "It seems that she spent a long time fighting the creation of an army and managed to make herself the enemy of someone really powerful. Rumor has it that Dooku isn't real fond of the Nubian senator. Just a few months ago she was placed under the protection of the Jedi by guess who?"

"Possibly Palpatine?" the merchant asked.

"One and the same." The computer hacker typed away at his keyboard. "Hmm…" he stopped his typing and looked up. "Well, this is interesting. Apparently she's dead."

"What?" in an instant the merchant was hanging over the hacker's shoulder peering anxiously at the screen.

"Officially she's dead, killed in a bombing of some type," he shrugged apologetically.

"She's dead? Are you sure?"

"No."

"No?"

"I said _officially_ dead. I'm pulling up some files that can tell me the truth behind the facts."

The merchant grunted in understanding and watched the screen, rubbing his fingers together. When he could wait no longer he cleared his throat, "Well?"

Smiling, the fruitier/computer hacker kicked back from his computer proudly. "Apparently this was a failed assassination. There was someone who blew up in the speeder, but it seems to be a petty thief. The interesting thing is that the news of her death was posted four hours before the actual bombing."

"Meaning?"

"Meaning that someone high up doesn't care for Padmé Amidala." He smirked and turned off the computer, secreting it in a crate of greasy rags. "Is the price satisfactory?"

"This low-down persona isn't all an act is it?" asked the merchant good-humoredly.

The reply was grim, "Even scum doesn't like what's happening."

The merchant nodded respectfully and ducked out of the dark tent. He needed to find Padmé Amidala.


	22. Captive

Dormé found that something warm was running down her nose and causing her face to itch. She tried to wipe it away but her body did not respond to her wishes. That was strange. She opened her eyes and blinked twice. Nothing. Her brain worked sluggishly, trying to understand why she was unable to see. It was dark. That answer came slowly and was followed by two more questions. Where was she, and why was she lying down? She coughed and the pain that shot through her ribs made her hands move of their own volition to cover her sides. The next revelation was that her hands were bound together, and she wasn't sure why.

Years of survival training kicked into action as Dormé slowed her breathing and concentrated. The first thing to do was to assess her injuries. It was knowledge she wished she did not have, for when her confusion and panic disappeared she became aware that her whole body throbbed with pain. She gasped and squeezed shut her eyes, focusing, focusing. She needed to know the location of every injury, and to do that she had to be calm. Taking a deep breath she squeezed her toes and released them, then rolled her ankles. They did not seem to be bound and as far as she could tell they were uninjured. "Well that's something," she murmured through dry, seemingly swollen lips. Next were her legs. She found that her shins ached with a dull pain. Bruises, she decided. No sharp stinging pains meant no cuts or scrapes, and she couldn't feel any blood. She moved her left leg experimentally. No trouble. Next she lifted her right leg a few inches and nearly bit her lip in half as she stifled a scream. Her femur must be broken to send that kind of intense shooting pain through her body. Dormé allowed herself a whimper as she a few tears escaped her eyes. She took deep, calming breaths, ignoring the pain that caused in her ribs. When the spasms stopped she continued the investigation. She was more careful with the rest of her body as she experimentally squeezed, flexed, and rolled. When she was through she knew that besides her broken leg and bruised or possibly broken ribs she had a nasty cut running from her left eyebrow over the bridge of her nose and quite likely two black eyes. A stiff, bruised feeling in her right bicep, she decided, was a puncture wound. Her attackers must have injected her with a sleep-inducing drug before putting her here - wherever here was.

She knew she had to explore her surroundings, but it wouldn't be easy with a broken leg. First she focused on what she could find out without moving. Her eyes were not adjusting to the light, even though she had had them open for several minutes now. This meant that either she was in a room with no windows or that it was night outside. What time was it? How long had she been unconscious? She pushed aside these frantic questions and focused again on the room. The ground underneath her was cold and hard, and did not throb or move at all. This ruled out a moving spacecraft as her prison. She wondered how large this room was, whether she was in a prison cell or… She decided to try making some noise. Her throat felt thick, a side effect of the drug no doubt, but at last she succeeded in rasping out a little "Hello?" Her weak yell continued for a long time, bouncing off of smooth walls far away and coming back to her without being absorbed by anything. Dormé decided that she was in a warehouse of some kind, one that was not totally deserted, for the air was comfortably warm.

Her surroundings partially known she focused all her strength on remembering how she came to be in this place. She had left the dingy apartment to buy a little food. She was careful walking down the crowded street. She was given a respectful distance after she effectively broke the arm of a ruffian who had come too close. She hadn't wanted trouble, but it was clear he did. She spoke quietly, warning him away, but he had only laughed. Then with a minimum of expanded energy she had taken his left arm in her hands and turned it just so. The sound of bones crackling had startled the grimy attacker and his eyes went wide as he stared at his arm. Then his face whitened as the pain started. He scuttled off into an alley and the nearby watchers went back to their business, seemingly unconcerned. Had the petty thief come back with friends and roughed her up? If so why couldn't she remember it? And why would she be in this warehouse and not dead in a pile of refuse? If someone had been able to overpower her they surely could have killed her. After she had dealt with the troublemaker she had continued on to a vendor whose stall seemed the least filthy. She had purchased some vegetables and a small side of meat. She handed her money to the vendor who smiled strangely.

"_Will you been wanting anything else?" he asked, moving his hand under a counter and bringing it back up, concealing it behind a crate. Why hadn't she paid more attention?  
_

"_No that will do, thank you," she said starting to move away. He grabbed her neck and she felt the world slipping away. Then something pricked her arm… Everything grew very foggy… And then fighting… and then nothing._

The vendor had done something to her and she had received injuries while fighting – him? No. She seemed to remember fighting more than one person. She had fought hard until the drug took complete effect, leaving her cold and unresponsive. Voices murmured just before the darkness took her. "She's not supposed to be injured!" "Did you see the way she fought? It couldn't be helped." "We'll have a hard time explaining this to – " Then she had been unconscious. Explaining this to whom? Dormé lay for a long time in the darkness working to unravel the riddle.


End file.
